


that's my girl

by Val_Creative



Series: GoT Drabble-Palooza 2019 [57]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action, Badass Arya, Bonding, During Canon, Explicit Language, Families of Choice, Gen, Humor, Parent Sandor, Season/Series 08, Triple Drabble, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: An odd bonding moment about warfare and weapons.





	that's my girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Bisexual_From_Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bisexual_From_Hell/gifts).



> Requested by The_Bisexual_From_Hell (AO3): "Hound and Arya father daughter bonding and everyone being kinda surprised by it. SFW." I love this family they ended up making themselves. I really do. Thanks for reading! And tell me if you love this father and daughter relationship as well!

 

 

*

On the cask-top sits the newly forged weapons.

Among collections of swords and axes, the Hound reaches for a club-staff.

"If you want to kill a man," he points out, holding up long, steel spikes at the tip for examination, "this is how you do it quick and brutal. Right into his skull." A deep gruff, humored snort. " _Slower_ —put it up his bunghole."

"That's not how you do it," Arya says, rolling her eyes. She grabs one of the flails, its chain rattling noisily. The heat from it concentrated and burning through her animal-hide gloves. "If you want to be quick on your feet, you need one of these."

_"Piss on that."_

"It's more difficult to hit a smaller target with a long arm. Your enemy won't stand a chance," she argues.

Arya's fingers extend out the length of the flail's chain, revealing its denseness. Compared to the gigantic, glinting morningstar in the Hound's hand, her own weapon has smaller spikes and less of them. _Less_ to the mace means an easier, deadlier strike.

The Hound grunts again, snarling and spitting to the ground.

"You'll hit yourself in the nose before hitting anyone else—" he cuts himself off, apprehension fading when Arya displays the flail, swinging it expertly over her head and whipping herself in a circle.

If her target had been _present_ , they would have been dead in seconds.

"I doubt it," Arya replies bitingly, slamming down her weapons onto the swords.

The Hound's lips twitch into a smirk.

From the distance, Brienne watches in mounting suspicion and amusement as they stand together, the Hound's fingers resting on Arya's shoulder. It's such a obviously fatherly gesture that she's almost taken aback.

"Not a sight I ever expected," Sansa murmurs, giving a high, awkward laugh.

Brienne has to agree.

*

 


End file.
